To the Bitter End
by ArcherArn
Summary: A group of short tales about the City Elf Warden and Morrigan spanning from the main campaign to the end of Witch Hunt. The reader must accept a little poetic license and that the Warden did not follow the Awakening story.  I also have NO DA2 knowledge
1. To the bitter end

Arn padded silently through the halls of Arl Eamon's estate in Denerim. The bell had tolled the midnight hour long since, but he could not sleep.

He caressed the ring on his finger for the hundredth time that day, and felt her presence seeping from it, merging into his own consciousness. Sometimes he could feel what she was feeling.

It had been difficult initially to understand and separate what the ring told him from his own feelings, but in time he could recognize her. A burst of anger here, a scornful annoyance there, when she let her passion flow through the ring as they made love it had been indescribable. And then one day he felt love, it was the same day the ring became silent more often as not. She shielded herself he decided. Was she so afraid of this?

But this night it told him he was not the only one wakeful.

Arn was an Elf, born to a life of poverty and servitude, trapped in the Alienage in Denerim. From as far back as he could remember his heart has called to the wild, to the free places of the world.

"Just like your mother", he had been told many a time but when his father spoke those words they dripped with sorrow and mourning. Arn had never known his mother but somehow her influence on him was seared in his soul.

His features were fine and delicate, his green eyes tilting. His long hair a deep and lustrous brown, held back from his face with a braid. His skin had darkened in the sun until he resembled more and more the wandering Dalish people.

Soon he began carrying a knife and bow. His father begged him to stop, that only trouble would come of his weapons. He had not listened.

On days where his chores were few he would sneak out of Denerim into the wilds, to hunt for meat, to be alone in the world. It taught him to walk the path of the woodsman, the ranger. He could track a mouse through a thicket he once told Shiani as they shared a bottle of stolen wine, hidden in one of the buildings in the back allies. His drunken bravado proved false, but it did give him a new name. She called him Mouse.

He missed her.

In time he grew to a man. His father had arranged his marriage to a "rare beauty" he had been told. And so it was true. But that chance of hope turned to disaster. She had been kidnapped on the day of their wedding, along with other Elven women by the son of a Lord. A drunken and spiteful fool that wanted nothing more that to let himself and his men take their pleasure of the women and then discard them when they had been sated.

Arn could not standby and accept. His people had accepted for too long. He entered the manor with his cousin Soris and killed them all. But even then he was too late. It had been Shiani they violated.

Arn had been too late to save her. He would never forget the sight of her bleeding and bruised and weeping, clutching herself in a fetal position. He would never forgive himself.

Soldiers came for him the next day, he took responsibility alone, at least he could save Soris even if he could not save Shiani.

His fate would be the gallows but chance had different plans. Duncan, leader of the Grey Wardens exercised his right and conscripted the Elf. Saved, yet banished, his failure a mantle to carry with him.

"Forgive me Shiani", he whispered to himself.

He shook himself from this thinking of the past. It was the present that concerned him now.

He moved like a shadow through the hallways until he stood at her door. There his bravery and will betrayed him. It had been a long time since she had rejected his advances towards the bed, and here he was now on the threshold of her bed chamber, he wished to speak to her, yet he worried she would assume he was searching for something else. With a small sigh he opened the door silently.

A shaft of moonlight lit the room; it was cold and white and illuminated everything in an eerie glow. The light caressed the skin of her back, making her pale skin glow as if it burned with witch-fire. The cascade of her dark hair was disheveled as she tossed and turned on her pillow.

She stiffened as she sensed the presence in her room.

"Why are you here?"

Arn smiled at the sound of her voice, strong and confident, and always straight to the point.

"I came to speak to you, there is something I have wanted to say for a time, and I just want you to listen and think on it. Will you do that for me?"

He felt a pang of her fear through the ring, and then she hurriedly crushed it to become a wall protecting her. It seemed she had the talent to hide her emotions. Maybe it was a mage's skill or a trick of great will, and even though he was strong willed he could never bring himself to try and hide himself from the ring.

"Very well, speak"

She rolled onto her back and looked at him; the yellow of her eyes reminded him of a wolf. Not for the first time he wondered if that was her natural colour or the side effect of the shape-changing.

Feral she was, wild and cruel, uncompromising, fearless yet fragile. He knew what love was when he gazed upon her, and could not believe that if not for a twist of fate they would never have met and he would now be married to an Elven woman. He realized with surprise that he had forgotten her name, his betrothed, and her face was slipping from his mind. Everything replaced by the wolf eyed woman in front of him.

"Love, is not a weakness Morrigan. And I want to explain to you why, and also I want to point out why it may have been denied from you by Flemeth"

She stared at him, while he waited to see if there would be a response. When none was forthcoming he assumed she had agreed to listen.

"Flemeth taught you to be strong, to survive alone, and to rely on no one. She indeed made you strong, but in her wisdom she made you to be powerful enough to be a host for her, but not powerful enough to resist her when the time came for her to claim you"

Morrigan fidgeted in the bed, uncomfortable with what she was hearing. She gritted her teeth hard to hold back the retort that screamed on her tongue.

"Flemeth lies dead, yet I live. She bore her full fury down on me, as a High Dragon and yet it is still her blood that stains the earth and I sit here by your side. Do you know why?"

Silence was his reply, but her fixed stare told him that she awaited what he had to say.

"I'll tell you," he said.

"It was love, and friendship, and camaraderie. My friends, whose love for me is so strong that they were willing to stand next to me, shoulder to shoulder and confront a dragon to save you. To save the woman I love."

Green eyes met yellow in a stare, and for the first time he could remember it was the yellow that looked away first.

A brief instant of joy and worry passed through the ring before again Morrigan held her emotions back from him. What had that meant he thought to himself?

"They understood the dangers they faced to come to your aid, and yet they did it. They knew the only gain was a stronger bond of friendship, to be happy in the joy of another. And they did face her and overcame."

"The whole is greater than the sum of our parts. This is how we have worked to face things that couldn't be done alone."

"You don't have to be alone Morrigan. You are free to choose," he continued.

"Imagine what you could achieve with those that love you and trust you by your side. Flemeth couldn't have that; you would have been far too strong for her. So she pruned the rose before it could blossom so to speak. "

"You give me something to truly fight for, you make me stronger, " he said in such loving way that she couldn't help but feel the un-shed tears welling in her eyes. She blinked them away, even now unwilling to let him see her weakness.

"Don't be afraid to love me Morrigan. I'll always be here for you."

"I believe in you, trust you and love you."

"To the bitter end."

He rose from the bed, bent down and brushed a tender kiss across her lips before he turned towards the door.

"Sleep well my love"

Morrigan spoke; her voice was choked with emotion.

"Stay with me"

The first light of pre dawn came before their passion was spent, but in time their needs gave way to the joy of a heart at peace, that moment in the afterglow where time stands still and the universe can be found in each other.

Arn cradled her in his arms. She laid her head upon his chest and the slow beating of his heart soothed her.

The warm wave of sleep rose up to pull her to her dreams and she let them take her willingly. She felt safe again.

And in her heart that feeling disturbed her more than she would admit.


	2. Can a wolf cry?

Ears lain back, tongue lolling, the wolf ran. For five days and five nights she had run. She ran west only stopping to drink from a stream or snap at an unsuspecting rabbit.

_Time is short; plans must be laid in place..._

So she told herself, but truly were they that urgent? Why did she run as if the Blight itself was at her heels? Why was she fleeing? She craved the pain of exhaustion she realised, in that pain she would have little time to think.

_Foolish, oh so foolish. What has become of you?_

She chided herself for she knew why she ran. Even this far away, he pulled at her like a lodestone, he was the reason, damn him. Why had he made this difficult? No not difficult, painful. The pain inside her was almost physical. She hated him for this, hated and loved him, and that made her angry.

Fury strengthened her limbs for a few more miles, and she raced on. But even as the breath burned in her lungs and her heart beat so hard that it felt as if it would tear from her chest her mind couldn't stop drifting back to their final night together.

She had been pushing him away for weeks because of fear, fear of what was happening to her. She had known men many times; her needs and passions were strong and voracious. Happily she had given her favour in exchange for what she required. Uncomplicated and both parties got what they needed. Some men had sated her; fewer had left her wanting another union, but only one had left her in a state where she would willingly beg for his touch, his gaze, just to hear him say her name.

She hated what she had become. Yet at times when she had given into those feelings she had felt at peace. But those moments never lasted long and soon she was chiding herself again.

So she had to punish herself. She held him away to punish herself for being a silly little girl. She would turn into Leliana next and that truly was unthinkable.

She had needed another night, just to be certain. She was aware already she might be with child. She had hoped she was, and was disturbed to discover the hope was based on that it was his and not because of what the child would become. But on that night, with willing agreement, with the spells of old magic, magic from before the dawn of civilised man, she knew his seed would quicken in her womb.

She remembered the hurt in his eyes when he asked if all that they had had together had been a lie to get this child. How hard it had been to keep control and not beg for forgiveness. She explained coolly that she hadn't planned for this to become complicated, yet inside her turmoil was like a storm tossed sea.

_Where had these feelings come from? Why now? _

_What purpose did they serve?_

_Love is pointless, a weakness. Love is pain, Flemeth was right... _

_But he had bested her... Did he know better?_

For so long she had denied him, except that single night in Denerim when he came to her room. She was almost mindless with longing, yet she held it within. On that final night where she offered him his escape she felt her soul would tear apart if he refused.

He could not refuse her, she knew it, his loved flooded into her being every time she searched for him with the ring. It left her breathless in its intensity. He would not deny her and so they had loved the night through. Desperate to drink as much of each other as they could before it was over.

"After the Archdaemon is dead, I will leave and you shall not follow"

_Why had the phrase come bidden to her lips? She had no need to run from him but decided she must. Who was that for?_

She knew it was for her own sanity, she was losing herself in him. She was not a puppet to dance to entertain him, she was not a simpering fool to want nothing more than raise his whelps. Then why did the dream of the ranger and the witch come to her over and over, wild and free, tied together by love and respect, apart from civilised man, turning the true cogs of the world as they summoned forth the true Old Gods.

"Miserable, selfish bastard"

She wondered who she was addressing really when she had spoken those words. Was it him, her, or maybe fate itself?

Her mind drifted to the last sight of him, lying on the stone, alive but unconscious after the Archdaemon's soul had passed to the child. The tower top had exploded in a huge shockwave. She was the first to wake. She had shielded herself, for she knew what would occur when the soul was released. She had kept that secret for it would give her time to escape.

She had knelt by his side to check his pulse. Her heart was aching and she almost succumbed and simply lay by his side, but with perhaps the greatest strength of will she steeled herself.

"I love you". She spoke those three words, she needed to say them to stop them aching inside her. She would never have been able to speak such weakness if he was conscious of it.

It had been hard enough for her to say "my love", but to state it so plainly, so without evasion, she found the words stick in her throat. She smiled sadly; it had been a relief to say it to him. She held his face in her palms and kissed him until she could feel the tears run unbidden from her eyes.

"Enough," she growled.

Angrily she stood and sprinted to the precipice of the tower's shattered edge. Before she could stop herself she jumped.

The crow flew for a while until it was beyond the battlefield where it landed and shifted to the form of a wolf. She had overcome the hardest part, the farewell. And so she ran, she ran in hopes of forgetting.

She soon realised that was doomed to failure.

Her mind returned to the present. Even after five days her longing was palpable and she left the form of wolf to resume her own. She lay in undergrowth panting.

The urge to use the ring overwhelmed her and she let herself call to it with ancient words of magic.

And she saw him. Her link to him was so strong she could see him, not just feel his emotions. At first she had thought this powerful link a useful tool, now it felt like a curse for she had no experience of coping with how she felt.

He stood at the window in a tower room. The shutters were open and he faced out into the night. He moved his head as if he scanned the horizon though it was impossible to see. The breeze blew his hair from his face and she realised he had his eyes closed.

In her mind she reached out to brush his face and his eyes snapped open and it was as if he was staring directly at her. The briefest smile touched his lips.

"I feel you Morrigan" he whispered.

Seeing what she had abandoned her heart filled with sorrow and regret. But she had chosen her path, it was too late now.

She could see around his bed chamber, his pack was propped against the wall, as was his bow-stave and sword belt. He was prepared to travel.

His image started to fade as her sorrow overwhelmed her. She felt the tears come and she let them run unchecked. She had not truly cried since she had been a small girl, but she felt as if she was drowning and to let it out was the only way she could cope.

She let her form return to that of a wolf, and she howled out her sorrow and frustration.

But there she learned something else too.

That even wolves can cry...


	3. The price of answers

_**Author's Note**_

_This part of the story certainly isn't a romance and depicts Morrigan's harder side. This is included to answer where she went and why. And to maybe give some idea why she continued with Flemeth's plans even after Flemeth was defeated._

_(I'm having a lot of trouble with the spacing so I have left marking characters to make the recited poem sections stand out. sorry. any guidance with what I'm doing wrong is appreciated)_

_Hope you enjoy._

...

Time heals all wounds, and in essence that was true, but it hadn't made her forget. Morrigan's tears had stopped as the weeks had melded together. But sometimes in the dead of night the pain would come. The hurt of separation, of all she had sacrificed to do as she was bidden. To stop him from changing her and melding her to his will she had run away. She was her own being, she loved the freedom and independence that she had attained yet sometimes she felt trapped and isolated. Never had she felt that way before. He had changed her, and it seemed that change was irreversible.

Her hands caressed her stomach that had started to protrude and it was clear to the world that she carried a child now. This child would be born and would change the world. Would she be venerated as the mother or reviled? Many fear change, and would fight it, but to adapt was to survive. And she knew how to survive.

But there was much to do. She had to prepare the way for his "travelling". The prophecies spoke of him as if the coming of the dawn after an endless night. He would purge the world of darkness, burning away the shadow once and for all. But his coming would not be without cost, old kingdoms would fall, blood would quench the burning fields. Death to the world, but also life anew.

But before that he must travel to where the bones of the earth would forge him and burn out his impurities. His would be a path of greatness, but a terrible path all the same.

..

_And the God Child shall leave this realm_

_And walk where the Old Gods once did soar_

_To remember what has been long forgotten _

_To take wing once more_

_.._

But how could she pass from this realm to that? And what realm was it the prophecies spoke of? She needed wisdom and though it frightened her, she knew there was only one person she could ask. She must ask the one who walked the path for centuries... Flemeth..

Arn had told her how Flemeth had become a High Dragon to dance a fearsome and bloody dance. And even though he had laid her low, Morrigan had known that it was not over, that somehow, somewhere her spirit remained. And now she would need to ask her questions.

Many of her spells were dangerous; many would have made even the most terrible blood mage blanche. But long ago she had been taught that she must do what must be done, whatever the cost, even if it stained her soul.

She would need to seek out Flemeth in the Fade, and for that she would need blood, lots of blood.

* * *

><p>Two days later as the night rolled in she approached the camp of a hunter. She had tracked him, for half a day, in the form of a wolf. He was alone in camp she knew.<p>

As she approached the camp she released her spell so that she again was a beautiful woman. She walked out of the night like a dryad in tales whispered around fires in the dead of night. The firelight enhanced her beauty, making it wild and erotic. Her hips rolled as she walked into camp, accentuating her feminine charms. Her clothing barely concealed the swell of her breasts, yet she was careful not to break her spell over him with the show of her growing stomach. She wet her lips and left them parted offering a kiss. Her eyes never broke from his. Control was so easy when she wove a spell powered by his lust. He wouldn't question how a young and beautiful woman would appear here and now, nor that she would offer him pleasures that one so un-handsome would ever expect.

She moved close to him, he stood and reached out for her. The look of unashamed hunger almost made her laugh. The spell was almost in place; his mind was receding being replaced by lust that her magic had amplified to unnatural levels. She accepted the rough hands clawing at her breasts and womanhood, in his almost bestial hunger. Her mouth moved close to his, the tip of her tongue caressed her bottom lip in a way that promised pleasures that he never knew existed. She felt him press himself against her but he would never receive the pleasures that his ensorcelled mind dreamed of. The small curved knife thrust sharply into his stomach and she tore it across, eviscerating him. Disbelieving shock appeared across his already clouding eyes. Numb fingers tried desperately to hold in his entrails. He fell backwards.

She slumped down on to the ground, feeling relieved and disgusted at herself. Arn had given her another gift she had discovered. She wanted him to be proud of her; this had in turn given her limits in herself. How had he made her such a child, wanting his approval like a puppy? And yet she felt he was right, that this was a line she should not have crossed.

"Never again."

She found that thinking of him made her feel ashamed. How dare he do this to her, how dare he judge her. He didn't understand what she had to do to achieve her task. And she found that it didn't matter, his opinion of her mattered more.

She steeled herself, she had come this far and now it must be done. She knelt next to the corpse of the hunter, ignoring the spreading pool of blood. She cut out what she needed, heart, liver, intestines amongst other things.

With arms slick with blood she returned to the fire and cast the flesh into it. Ancient words of magic escaped her lips and the air around coalesced into a frost. No heat from the fire touched her. Her breath escaped her in an icy cloud and her body shivered and responded to the cold.

The fire turned the colour of blood and it was if the light it gave was dimmed and subdued.

The flames of her fire began to howl in torment and they melded into the fiery visage of her mother. The eyes burned with hatred, and the voice hissed in anger.

"So the foolish child calls me. So very proud of your accomplishment are you? He danced to your tune so very well that he has put all that was planned in danger."

"Be silent spirit, it is I who asks here. Do as you are bid"

Morrigan drove the blood drenched dagger into the flames and Flemeth howled in anguish. Her yellow eyes never flinched as she wracked the spirit with indescribable torments.

"Enough! I beg you" gasped Flemeth.

"Now, answer me. The child must travel. How is this to be accomplished?"

Flemeth sneered.

"I was the prophetess as was written, I was the one to prepare his coming, and you had my vessel destroyed. When he slew me how I raged, but soon I learned that was what the prophecy required. His seed quickened in you on the night you rewarded him for slaying me. So indeed I did prepare his coming with my death."

"Not that I will forgive you my daughter, you sent him to kill me after all I had taught you. All the time I nurtured you to become the mother." There was a cruel twist to the lips of the fiery visage.

Unconsciously her hand went to her stomach, to their child. All that she had left of him and soon that too would be taken.

"Is she sad? Does she cry? I taught you well and you have come to this. Pathetic. I wonder who truly is the master and who the puppet. He has bound you tighter than I thought possible. You are weak child. "

Morrigan growled and drove the knife into the flames over and over, her anger only abating when Flemeth's screams turned to sobs.

"Continue, tell me what I need to know"

"Eluvian!" the spirit gasped.

"The Eluvian, the gateway, find the last of its kind, guarded by his people, those that believe. They await your coming"

_.._

_As the world falls in darkness_

_A mirror holds the coming dawn_

_Where the dragon-kin wait for him_

_The god child shall there be born_

..

"Where do I find this Eluvian? Tell me!" commanded Morrigan.

"In the words of the Shapers, and in the songs of Orlais, and in the books of the Elves. That is all I know"

Morrigan sat back a little, thinking. Orzammar wasn't so far away. That was the place she must venture and study the records of the Shapers.

"You are released spirit"

Before Flemeth evaporated into the night her flames blazed.

"Remember this daughter. Soon the part you need to play is over, the god child shall be born. The prophecy speaks nothing more of you. Soon I will return to the realm of men, and you my daughter will regret what you did. Enjoy these days where you are needed. For once they are over you shall taste my vengeance"

"You will then spend the rest of your days looking over your shoulder.. But perhaps first I'll make him forget you."

Morrigan could not believe how that final barb hurt. He had become her weakness.

And the flame was gone.

Fear gnawed at her belly and she wished he was there to comfort and protect her. But she had pushed him away. And even if in her dreams they were together she knew it could never be.

She felt dirty and ashamed, she could almost feel the disapproval he would have had for her actions, the hurt he would have felt to see her act so.

Yes, he had changed her.

* * *

><p>In the depths of the Fade Flemeth laughed with malicious glee. Everything still went according to plan. The child had been conceived and the soul it housed was ancient and powerful, older than even her own. The child would grow and become the one the prophecies described. The child would become a man, a man that was a god, a god the world would follow.<p>

And she, she would become his wife, and through him rule it all, for eternity.


	4. Campfire memories

Arn scored another mark into the latest leather strip that he carried. Chewing and salting a new piece of leather became his tradition for seeing in the new month. This was the sixth cord to hang from his belt as a reminder of how long it had been since he saw her face.

"Five months, seventeen days and this morning" he said to himself.

Though Arn was not alone, he could not describe the Blight Wolf at his side as a fine conversationalist. Through the skills of the ranger he had an understanding with the beast; they were more partners than friends. The wolf was certainly not tame, and Arn could trust it only so far, but in some way he was the friend he needed right now, a silent, non-judgemental friend, there and ready to fight.

The world was not a safe place, the Blight was over but the dark spawn had not left, they would need to be hunted down and killed. Desperate men had turned to banditry making the roads almost as dangerous as the dark places of the world.

Arn brought the ring to his lips and kissed it.

"I hope you are well, even though your back hurts"

Arn had felt her discomfort through the ring three nights since. Her back ached and she was tired but she couldn't get to sleep, she felt lonely and somewhat overwhelmed. It was almost as if she reached out for him, to take a moment of solace in his love before she shut herself away from him. He sighed sadly; to feel her presence after so long had been like the first ray of sun after a long winter.

But the long silence left him feeling melancholy, he felt betrayed and so his mind turned inwards to explore those feelings

He didn't truly feel betrayed by her, but by what he had always believed. So sure was he if that if he gave her his all, put his heart in her hand she would understand. That if she came to realise she loved him too it would be enough and the wall between them would tumble and they would be together. Never did it occur to him that she could admit her love for him and yet still leave.

To wake to find her gone was the bitterest wound he had suffered in all his trials. Wounds of battle were clean and would heal, but a wound of the heart was jagged and weeping. Why hadn't he been enough for her? What had he done wrong for her to leave?

He had no answers; he had no one to understand.

After the battle and still too sick to chase her, Wynne had visited him and helped him by simply being there, like the mother he had never known, to stroke his hair as he wept bitter tears.

"I am sorry Arn, truly I am." She said no more, but in truth what could she say?

She had at one time been very much against their joining. But she saw how it brought to life feelings and emotions Morrigan had once despised. She saw the beauty of their love. Maybe too she was surprised it ended like this, but she was old enough and wise enough to know that not all endings are happy.

Too weak to chase after her, the bed chamber had become a prison for Arn. Time had run like water as the days passed and he knew she got farther and farther away. He was angered that his weakened body rebelled against him, keeping him tied there.

In time his strength returned and he agreed to stay for the coronation. He was glad he did. The joy and relief of the people took away the pain for a while and he smiled for the first time since he had slain the Archdaemon.

He said farewell to his companions who had stood by him these last months. He would miss them; they had truly become his closest friends. Strange to think he may never see them again.

Arn had once kissed Leliana, it had been a mistake which he had sorely regretted, but in their farewell he could feel her hope well up now that the spectre of Morrigan had left. Her hope turned to pity when he told her he would be riding out today in search of her. The heart is a fickle thing and had chosen the harridan over the bard. Perhaps he was foolish, but he knew he could never let her go now.

Within the hour a horse galloped out of Denerim's gates heading west. Arn never looked back.

And months had now passed and still he searched.

"Where are you? Please, stop running."

Only silence was his response.

...

Morrigan felt alone, being with child made her emotions as tempestuous as the sea. From fury to desire to joy to tears in what seemed like a heart-beat was something she had not expected.

She needed something to cling on to, she had some of the answers to the problem of the Eluvian but she could not keep her focus on the task at hand. She had to see him, she told herself. She needed just a glimpse.

She opened up to him and saw him resting by a river bank, his feet in the cool waters while he poured over a map. He was singing a song, that song of the Elves that the bard had sung. He could not sing as high as the bard but his voice was not unpleasant.

Morrigan ground her teeth, she hated that song. No it wasn't the song; it was how the bard had tried to get him from her. Damn her and her Orlasian tricks of seduction.

She remembered how the bard had wanted his attention to sing this song, how she had lured him away from her fire with this story of his people.

"Oh it's a beautiful sentiment I think" spat out Morrigan in a mock imitation of Leliana.

Morrigan had never felt jealous before, it was she would made others dance as she toyed with their desires, yet it had become all consuming in that moment, he was hers and she wasn't going to let that copper haired trull get away with it.

She remembered how she pretended to look away, to act as if nothing was happening yet inside she felt the fury build in her. She had longed to simply walk over and sit on his lap and stare daggers at the bard, but she wouldn't shame herself so. What was becoming of her? She told herself he was just a plaything, someone she needed to keep interested in because her mission demanded it, but deep inside she knew something had changed.

And if matters weren't bad enough he decided he would talk with the bard after and ask her if she could show him what was needed to be a bard.

Leliana played him very well, wasn't she all flattered and fluttery eyed. Morrigan couldn't help but growl. Then she led him out of camp, so "no one would get hurt". She couldn't take anymore and slipped into the darkness, transformed into a wolf and followed after them.

In the bushes she watched them.

Leliana was going through some sort of disarming exercise.

"And you see, if I do this I can knock the blade from your hand"

She twirled the blade in the moonlight catching the nerves of Arn's wrist with the flat of the blade. Immediately his fingers numbed and his blade was dropped.

"And of course from there I can do exactly what I want" she said in a mischievous way. Somewhere in the thicket a wolf growled.

Leliana grabbed Arn's wrist and pulled it down and to her left, forcing him to bend at the waist so that his head was almost lying on her armoured breast, her mouth but inches from his ear.

"And from here I could strike where I like"

She tapped her blade against the side of his neck, his kidneys and finally his groin. She left the blade there a second longer than she should and he stood up sharply when he heard a wolf howl in the darkness.

"Interesting, this has given me much to think on. But I need to be getting back to check on the others. But thank you for showing me your bardish skills"

He quickly excused himself and left.

Morrigan was furious when he came to her camp. Venomous even and she felt ashamed about that. She jabbed his chest and accused him of "dallying" with the bard. She knew that wasn't strictly true but he was doing something to her so he had to pay for that too.

"I will not be where I'm not appreciated. I am not willing to compete with another for you." That was a lie and she knew it, but she would never admit that.

"I'm acting like a nagging wife, and it's your fault, damn you"

His eyes shone with amusement and that only made her angrier, she beat at him with her fists, furious and aroused and scared and full of joy that she was his sole attention.

He grabbed her hands in his and she saw he wore the ring she gave him. The sight of it calmed her a little and her fists relaxed and he held her hands to his chest.

"Why would I want Leliana when I have you? What do you think she has that could turn my head?"

"I know I'm not like other women, I am not good with any of this."

Arn took her face in his hands.

"I want you, no one else"

Their lovemaking that night was furious and angry, she wanted to mark her territory, her nails clawed at him and she bit him to let them all know who he belonged to. Her frenzy inspired his own, and he too marked her with tooth and nail, marks of ownership. She wanted them all to hear her moment as the waves of euphoria rose in her.

In days to come she would argue with Leliana and always the subject of her cries of ecstasy would be brought up.

"You sound like the death throes of genlock, a sweet sound to a Grey Warden no?" But she hadn't cared.

After that night the bard had kept her distance from him.

The thought of those nights left her aroused and felling more alone than ever. Her emotions at the mercy of her hormones gave her no peace, shattered the discipline of her mind. Already he had breached her walls and made her feel weak and vulnerable, now this child seemed to have sided with him. Damn them all.

...

Arn marked another dot on his map; he had left the hamlet of Fairfallow this morning. It was south west of Orzammar by about forty miles. From the rumours Arn had received, the sightings, the stories past from friend to friend, he believed she was headed over the Frostbacks. Was she planning to travel to Orlais? It was certainly a place where she wasn't known. But yet the Frostback Mountains was not an easy path to take if that was her plan, especially in her condition. Wouldn't a ship to Orlais be quicker, safer?

But that would only be true if her plan was to run, and really would she run to a civilised place? She was a daughter of the wild places of the world, if she sort civilised places then she was not running, she had other plans. What if she was looking for something or someone?

So many questions were there, yet answers were so few. He had to make a decision, should he go over the mountains? It was a gamble for it would be a hard journey. And if he did he could not travel like this, under provisioned. He knew there was a crossroads to the south where the only path of the mountains that can be taken by wagons started. If he waited there a merchant would surely come and maybe he could secure travel, or at the very least barter supplies.

He only had to wait for a day before the rumbling sound of wheels could be heard. Around the bend in the road came a caravan of six wagons being hauled by a pair of oxen each. The wagons where stacked with barrels of spirits, furs, weapons and armour, all lashed down tight to keep them secure.

Arn stood to the side of the road with hands held up demonstrating he was unarmed and came in peace.

A well dressed dwarf backed by three guards walked towards the ranger from the caravan that had stopped fifty yards away.

"Hail to you Elf. What can Rholan master merchant do for you? Note my time is short as the Frostbacks will soon be snow bound and impassable. My last trip before I winter in Orlais."

"I seek passage to Orlais, or supplies if passage is unacceptable"

"Orlais you say, tis indeed a good way to spend the winter surrounded by the fine wines and wondrous women eh?"

"I search for someone, so maybe you have heard stories in your travels"

"Mayhaps I have, a merchant hears many tales, and some of them are even true". The dwarf laughed at his own wit.

"I seek an exotic looking human woman; she has black hair pinned up behind, pale skin, yellow eyes..."

"Yellow eyes ya say... hmm mean as a badger, her belly full with a bun?"

Arn was too surprised to be offended by the dwarf's words.

"Yes.. yes.. you know of her?"

"Indeed I do, a rare one that is, she purchased some books I brought back with me from my last trip. I have seen her most days in Orzammar going to and from the Shaperate. She cursed me most greatly at the prices I ask. Leather bound them books were, fine intricate pieces, as if fifty silver for a book was expensive..."

Arn had stopped listening to the merchant's monologue about book prices. Orzimmar, she had been there for a long while and he had travelled right past her. His search could have ended long ago but fate had decided that his search needed to continue. How had he not thought to go to the city to ask? It was because he had believed she was running from him. But that had been untrue. She was searching for something.

"Is she still there?"

The dwarf stopped mid sentence.

"Er.. what.. Oh yes, she was a week ago when I left"

Arn's heart raced. So close.

"Thank you, master dwarf."

Arn hoisted his pack on his shoulder and started the journey to Orzimmar without even a farewell. That is why she has been so silent he thought. She knew he had been close by.

The dwarf watched the Elf go and laughed to himself, he turned to one of his guards.

"Soldiers eh, they give a girl a full blown belly before they go then think they'll come home a hero. That shrew will give him what for"

The guards laughed

"Alright let's move out"

By the time the wagons had started again the Elf was out of sight.


	5. And the God Child is born

Morrigan gazed up the long, steep and winding path that led to the village of Haven. The last few days of her journey to this place had been long and tiring. Her child was now almost at full term and she knew soon it would be born. Thus she had decided that she must go to those that would embrace him, those that had secretly followed the Old Gods. These people knew the prophecy, were looking for her coming. These were the child's people.

The worshippers of dragons, the dragon cults as they were called were the followers of the Old Gods. Dragons had been the bodies that the Old Gods had inhabited when they first walked Ferelden, incredibly powerful but a Dragon was only a beast. It had been the only creature strong enough to house the raw power of the god. But the magic she had performed had built a dam between the child and the god, trickling its power to it, allowing it time to grow and strengthen. But still her magic would not be enough. That's why she required the Eluvian, to travel to a place where he could grow strong enough to absorb all of the god's power before the magic faded. If the child did not strengthen sufficiently she imagined its death would be terrible and agonizing, as that potent soul tore the body that carried it asunder.

In the form of a man an Old God could wipe away the Darkspawn and the Chantry alike. The child could find and raise the other Old Gods, uncorrupted dragons to follow him in battle. The coming of the Old Gods would be the fire to purge the world. And within weeks the child would be born and the world would never be the same again.

There was danger in what she had done she knew, the soul of an Old God called to the Darkspawn, seeking to make it free, but in that trade for freedom it would become corrupted and be bent on bloody destruction. Calling forth its minions to the surface world, creating a Blight. She imagined the fate of those unfortunate enough to be taken in a Blight. The men were the fortunate ones, they were killed out of hand, but the women were taken alive, to perform some terrible parody of mating, to be transformed into bloated and horrid brood mothers, birthing Darkspawn for the rest of eternity. It was not a fate she wished on anyone.

But they must protect the child to adulthood, the Darkspawn are drawn to the soul of the god. And only through the Eluvian could the child grow without the possibility of corruption.

It had been her task since childhood to do this, and nothing would stand in her way, not even her own happiness. A thousand times she wished it had not been her duty to do this, but simply live in the wilds with her love, side by side and leaving the world of men to its own devices. But that was a dream, and dreams were pointless, worse than pointless for they made the task at hand so much harder. She sighed sadly then let the thought go for now she could make out forms in the streets of Haven ahead.

She remembered when she had first entered here, she had seen the signs. The markings on the doors, old symbols burned into the wood of the mantles. She had seen symbols depicting the dragon, or the symbol of the eye, telling those that knew the signs that they were watching. That they were waiting for the Mother to appear. The final sign was the discovery that the leader of the Chantry was a man. For there was only one Mother, and she was that person, so they hid their true worship under this guise of a Chantry and the robes of their priests. This place was the bastion of her child's people. These were the ones that would protect the child in infancy with their very lives.

Strangers were not welcomed in Haven, and it had caused her much distress when they first entered this place. She hid her fears from Arn and pretended she cared not what he did here, but inside she feared for these people.

Arn needed answers to questions and these people were not willing to give them. Arn needed the Ashes of Andraste, and the people here knew that the mountain top held the answer. Blood had flowed and Morrigan felt sorrow for her part in this. But at that point she had needed Arn more, for he would be the catalyst that could bring the child into existence.

Arn, she found herself thinking of him again and it made her heart ache. She couldn't believe that even now, after all this time she spent most of her time dreaming of him. Again her mind shifted to the dream of hiding in the wilds with him, running with the wolves, sharing a small hut, waking in his arms. She realised how deep her love had become and it scared her to think how it affected and controlled her. She had always wanted to be free, and now she was alone, where only her choice mattered she felt more trapped than ever. She had only felt free in her time with him, sharing the road and dangers as they moved towards the battle with the Archdaemon.

She shook her head, annoyed with herself that she had lost focus of the task at hand again. Her emotions were in turmoil, it was a side effect of being with child she told herself.

She had asked Arn to take someone else when they had reached the Cultist's lair. She was afraid she might be recognised and questions would be asked that she wasn't ready to answer. It had pained her but she had told Arn to take Leliana.

"T'would be better to take the devout bard, don't you think? I for one don't care or believe in Andraste"

He had seen the sense in her suggestion and left her in the camp just outside the town. She had been relieved not to face the followers but that relief was curdled by the satisfied look Leliana had given him when he had chosen her to accompany him. They left the camp in the early morning and it wasn't until that night did they return, blooded and quiet.

He told her the tale in the peace around her camp fire, and she was so sorrowful about how many he had killed. The Cult had been decimated. Would there be enough to follow her child? He had slew the chief cultist and a High Dragon up there, a terrible beast. The child could have tamed that creature. What a weapon it would have been but even though it damaged her plans she was filled with pride that her man could kill something that was almost indestructible. It surprised her to realize that she saw Arn as her own. Yes, he belonged to her and that made her feel special and happier than she could have imagined.

But even though they had gained the ashes he returned full of sorrow. He told her about the spirit and the questions. How it had brought Shiani's rape back to his mind and how he had failed her. She listened as he spoke of his pains

She had listened and comforted him as best she could. She was not comfortable with compassion or caring, she felt awkward when she tried for it wasn't really in her nature. So she lay in silence, with her head on his chest. Yet when he thanked her for listening she felt warm inside.

"You give me peace, even when surrounded by this darkness" he whispered into her hair. She smiled.

Back in the present she walked the main path of Haven and let her cloak fall to the floor so that all could view her heavily pregnant form.

The snow started to fall in light, wet flakes. It stuck to her hair, and for the briefest moment looked like blossom. She took a breath and called out.

"I bear the child who shall change the world!"

Chants of "Mother Mother" begin, starting as a whisper, building in intensity.

An old woman, wrapped in black wool came forward and bowed as low as her frail frame could manage.

"We have been anticipated your coming Mother for all the days of my life, as it was for the life of my mother, and hers before that. The wolf eyed woman shall bring the child to us. And at last you walk amongst us"

Morrigan felt the last of her strength failing her and she fainted. But she never hit the ground for many hands caught her. She was too precious to them to allow her to come to harm. She was the coming of change.

* * *

><p>Arn gripped the table as the first waves of agony rolled over him. The pain flared across his stomach then receded before coming again. He gritted his teeth and growled low in his throat to try and quell the pain. Another wave of pain came and he realised it was coming through the ring, it was her.<p>

Their child was coming. Again he felt the pain and he was anguished that the woman he loved was suffering so.

"Why did you want to go through this alone?"

He felt hot and feverish, burning up from the inside. On unsteady feet he staggered to the window of his room in Redcliff caste and threw the shutters open, gulping in cool breaths of air on this winter's night.

Thunder rumbled across the sky as if it echoed his torment. Her pain was terrible. He had never realised what women had to suffer to bring another life into this world, but now the stark reality came to him and he found he could stand no longer, but let himself slump to the floor and just lay there in the breeze, biting back the pain. Hoping she was wasn't in danger, and hoping the child would be healthy, but mainly hoping the pain would stop.

* * *

><p>She felt him there with her, the pain was so intense that she couldn't control the wall that hid her from him, and it came crashing down and he felt what she did. It felt so good to have him there. She had denied herself his consciousness for over two months now and even within the pain it was a welcome relief.<p>

"Why did I want to go through this alone?" she asked herself, mirroring his question.

Although, in truth she was not alone. She had three birthing wives with her, wise old women of the cult that had birthed a thousand babes between them. They put a root between her teeth and told her to chew on it. The sap was sweet and sticky and she felt its numbing effect as she chewed slowly. They told her when to push, when to breathe, and she was glad of it, for she had no notion of when to do these things, she just longed for the child to be out of her and the pain to leave.

She burned even on this wintery night, the sweat trickled down her face with the effort of pushing. Never had she felt so tired or so weak, but in time under the ministration of those women she pushed for the final time and she heard the wailing of a babe.

"Tis a boy child, He who was foretold is amongst us, and he will lead his people to freedom," intoned one of the birthing wives.

The babe was placed into her arms as she lay there, and it gave her a warm and deep ache in her heart. She found herself crying tears of joy and she felt the bond that a mother and child have blooming inside her like a rose in the summer sun. She gazed at him, he had black hair, and to her surprise his eyes were open and looking at her. Those eyes were older and wiser than they should be. They were the palest green those eyes and he looked around inquiringly. His ears were pointed like his father's and he had his mouth too. She couldn't help but smile at the beautiful, perfect form in her arms.

Her boy, their boy.

The birthing wives finished their task, cleaned her and left her to sleep. Her son was at her breast, taking of her milk. She was exhausted, on the point between waking and sleeping. She still felt some pain and would for days to come, but the worst was over. She felt him there, reaching out for her. Arn was somewhere out there, holding her in his dreams and she let them take her away to a place where they could be together.

* * *

><p>Arn reached out his hand; she was so close it was difficult to tell the difference from dream and reality. With their emotions so merged by the power of the ring and the surrender of her will in this moment of weakness, it almost felt that he was by her side. He brushed her hair with his fingers, her tresses sweat slicked to her face, and he moved them aside. The pain she had suffered had left her face pale and tired looking, but she had never seemed so beautiful to him. None of his dreams of her ever did her justice. He could sit and gaze upon her and never lose interest. She truly was perfect and he sighed contentedly.<p>

She must have sensed his presence because she turned towards him and their eyes met.

"I miss you", he said simply.

"and I.. it doesn't matter, I am weak now and have no strength to fight against you, but this must stop Arn, it would be the best"

He placed a finger under her chin and raised it slightly, his lips brushed hers and she kissed him back. She surrendered and just accepted the joy of the moment.

"We have a son my love," she said smiling.

"I am very proud of you, of you both" he responded.

He felt her drifting from him, as sleep came to claim her fully. Although he longed to cling to her he could sense her need of sleep so with a sigh of regret he let her slip into slumber. With her gone again the world seemed so much darker, and it left him aching inside for her. He hoped she would search for him again when she woke.

But the ring remained silent...


	6. An Elven Dance

As soon as Morrigan had been well enough to travel she had started organising the move from Haven.

Through the histories of the Shaperate and books from Orlais she had pieced together a history of the Eluvians. Finally she had located the last surviving Eluvian. Now it was time to move her son and his people to the portal.

The crafting of the mirrors was actually of Dwarven design. The initial concept and spells created to accomplish it were devised by the Elves, but their crafting skills had been sorely lacking and had sort the aid of the Dwarves with the creation of the mirrors themselves. Only master Dwarven savants had been able to infuse enough lyrium into the surfaces of ten mirrors to make them hold the most powerful of spells laid upon the glass by covens of Elven mages.

The initial plan of the spell was to allow those brave enough to use the mirror to step from one place to another in the blink of an eye. 'Think of where you wish you are, and it will be so' was the inscription carved on each Eluvian. Yet somehow the magic didn't work as intended and the Eluvians would take the user to one of the other mirrors. The user was able to choose the mirror they wanted to leave by using the strength of their will, those not strong enough of mind found the result very random. Thus was the plan to place each of the mirrors in the ten greatest cities.

But it was the intervention of the Tevinter that truly caused the discovery of the Eluvian's greatest power. For they greatly coveted those mirrors and a small army was sent to take one, by force if necessary, and it was that Keeper Arilas Dawnsong who upon seeing the advancing army summoned his people so they could escape through the Eluvian and warn the other cities of Tevinter treachery. Unfortunately while casting the spells of power to activate the Eluvian he phrased them incorrectly, most likely due to the rising panic for the Tevinter had breached the city walls and were bearing down on the temple containing the portal. When he and his followers stepped through the portal they found themselves in a strange and new world.

In that world he found that the ten mirrors formed in a ring and usually when the user said the spell correctly then the mirrors linked and the user passed from one mirror straight into another. This made him realise that the mirrors were rips in the fabric of the cosmos that allowed this skipping from one spot to another. But getting the spell wrong the link was not finished and he and his people were in a kind of limbo, in a place outside their own time and space, a world between worlds, beyond the Fade, but not so dissimilar.

He realised the danger of these mirrors and destroyed all but the one he came through and the one he planned to pass through. He could have destroyed the mirror he had come from whilst in this place, but he was concerned of the ramifications of destroying the point of origin of his initial spell, so decided that he would leave it be. Destroyed from this side, the other Eluvians could never be used; no unsuspecting user would ever be trapped here.

After he and his followers passed through the portal that lead to the mirror contained within the Elven temples within the Brecilian forest, he cast a glyph on the portal that would prevent anyone trying to enter or leave it because within the world of men, he discovered, the mirror was beyond any natural power to destroy. It pained him to leave two mirrors open for the Tevinter, but better to turn it into a trap then have his people trapped in that place. Thus if the Tevinter ever did learn of a way to use the Eluvian, they would be imprisoned there for he believed it was not possible to leave by the same mirror as you entered. It was the most he could do. He chronicled this dark knowledge and left it in the hands of the keepers before leaving. He was never heard of again.

The Tevinter mages captured the mirror but had no notion of the spells to activate it, but there was something wrong and dark about it. Around it disasters happened as they tried to transport it. In the end they decided it was 'cursed' and abandoned it in the Dragon Wastes where its magic would be hidden away from anyone strong enough to attempt its use. And there it has stood ever since.

Now she must lead her people there, to await the final piece of the puzzle. The book of Arilas Dawnsong, for she would need that knowledge to open that portal to the place that was beyond the Fade, the place where the Old Gods were once born before they came to Ferelden. A place where her son and the god bound to his soul would regain their full power; regain all their memories of being an Old God.

* * *

><p>It took Morrigan a week to track down the Dalish Elves she was searching for. Bird form greatly aided her search, as did spells of scrying and other magics that are best left unspoken.<p>

The book that contained the last link to the ancient Elven magical rites was in the possession of a clan of Elves that were lead by Keeper Solan. His was one of the few clans that could trace their lineage back to the realm of Arlathan itself.

It hadn't been difficult to ingratiate herself with the Clan. News of how a wolf eyed woman had aided the Warden in saving the Dalish from the werewolf plight had passed through the land-ships. She was somewhat of a hero and so she had been welcomed with open arms.

In truth she enjoyed Elven company, for it made her think of him. She could see how he moved in the walk of the hunters, she could see the shape of his eyes and ears, could hear the music of his voice. It eased her sorrowful soul.

She asked questions of their culture, their history. The Elves are very proud of their heritage and were most glad to share their knowledge with her. Soon enough talk turned to the last of the ancient tomes that they carried. She was careful to not sound too interested in them as she slowly and carefully extracted what she needed to know.

It was also strange to find that she could not bring herself to seduce those she questioned. It simply felt like disloyalty. He had such a hold on her and she wondered if she would ever be free of that, or if she would ever want to be free. Being loyal to him made her feel good inside, she regretted all the lies she had told him, and while she still thought of him daily she wanted to prove that she could stay true to him. She knew that was foolish that he wasn't here to know, or that maybe they would never meet again, yet something inside her stopped her.

Eventually Solan allowed her to view their most treasured tomes and she absorbed their secrets hungrily. The answers were almost at hand, and soon she would take her son to safety.

If only that act would truly make her happy. But she knew it would not, not without him.

* * *

><p>After two weeks Morrigan had informed Solan that in the morning she would be departing. She thanked him for their hospitality and their permission for her to study certain books and scrolls from their history chests.<p>

He had been most happy to share time with a hero of the Brecilian forests and of course one of the slayers of the Archdaemon.

He had promised her a feast in her honour to say farewell and the rest of the day the Elves had been full of bustle preparing the clearing for the night's festivities.

In time the preparations were made and they soon sat down to a feast where speeches and stories were shared. Some of the braver Elven hunters tried to offer her compliments in the hope of stolen kisses, but she found that she neither desired nor even considered their advances. She had found herself only longing for him, especially being surrounded by Elves.

Finally when all the food and tale telling was done, the tables were moved aside and the centre of the camp cleared so some of the younger couples could dance. From somewhere a lute and harp started up, and then they were accompanied by a drum. Beautiful voices joined in to make a sweet but haunting sound.

She watched the dancing couples and turned to Solan and spoke.

"I recognise this."

"You know this dance?" asked Solan.

"Indeed, someone ..close.. once taught me the steps, though it has been a long time since I last did them," she replied.

Solan raised an eyebrow, surprised.

"Well that one held you with great affection or high regard. Twas a great honour to be taught this dance. Today it is thought of as a courtship dance, the true meaning of it may have been lost, but the dance itself is a story. The male is Garhelidron, a great hunter who once found a fair maid in the forests and she danced so that he was entranced with her steps. He fell in love with her in that first moment, and as she danced he followed."

Solan pointed to the dance and she saw the female dancer swirling away from her partner, always so close but never quite in reach.

"He followed her for day and night and years and years, never once touching her. Every time he got close she would vanish like the mist of the morning as the sun burns it away. In time age fell upon him but even as he grew old and tired she was still as fresh and perfect as ever. Until one morning he could follow her no more, old and infirm was he. She knelt beside him and kissed him. He left his earthly body there, and took her hand and they have danced ever since. She was Mother Nature and the Elves have ever since been her love and we have danced with her until this very day"

Morrigan looked sadly at the dancers, wishing Arn was there with her.

Solan saw the sadness in her look.

"Does not your Garhelidron chase you still?"

Morrigan looked up sharply, annoyance crossed her features. Angry at herself for letting her secrets appear on her face.

"The dance had to end, it was best for us both. More I do not wish to say on this subject"

Solan nodded his head in acquiescence.

She watched as the dancers flitted in the shadows created by the camp fires, they were like wisps that glimmer in the darkness, luring the careless. Entrancing, beautiful and with a grace that she had not been able to copy, yet when he had shown her these steps she had felt like she walked on the air.

She looked into the flames, remembering how it all started.

* * *

><p>"This is a good place to camp" Arn stated. Although there were a few hours left before nightfall they had travelled most the day without finding a water source. The gurgling stream close by would make a good camp.<p>

"I am not sure we will find a better one today, so let us stay here".

Morrigan and the rest of her companions broke away to perform the chores of getting the camp ready. She liked to keep to herself so moved to the secluded edge of the clearing and started to put up her tent.

She heard approaching steps and looked up to find Arn approaching. He had removed his armour was dressed in supple leather breeches, a light shirt of white cotton, that still stuck to his chest and back with sweat. His feet were bare.

"There is something I want to show you, care to join me?" he asked.

"And what will the other's say?" she replied.

"I didn't think you cared? But truly let them talk; I hold no secrets about you. I think it's clear what you mean to me."

Morrigan knew very well what he felt. She could sense him with that ring she had gifted him. Not that it bothered her to be loved, other men had professed their love to her, usually while she still warmed their bed it was true, but nonetheless it wasn't a novel situation. What was unique is that she realised she returned the feeling, against all her wishes and plans and thoughts she had fallen for him. Strange that this one asked nothing of her, accepted her as she was, had even protected and saved her from Flemeth and had expected nothing in return. Maybe to be loved was a unique situation after all? Had she only ever been desired or coveted like an object? She wasn't sure, but there was something different this time.

Arn offered her his hand to help her up. She took it and he pulled her to her feet. He pulled her close for a second before she slipped from his grasp.

"Lead the way, but you will help put my tent up in the dark." It wasn't a question.

Smiling, he took her hand and walked her into the woods. For a while he was silent, savouring the sounds and smells of his surroundings. When he found a fairly open area he turned to her and there was a playful light in his eyes.

"Can you dance?" he asked

"What? You brought me here to ask that?"

"Indeed, so can you dance?" he reiterated.

"Of course, every day was a royal banquet in the wilds; I am also versed in etiquette and every other skill of the court lady" her voice dripped sarcasm.

"Wonderful" he continued deliberately ignoring the obvious sarcasm.

"So I want to show you a dance."

"Why? What purpose does it serve?"

"When an Elf dances it's like when you walk in the wilds, a place to reflect and be free and take joy in the pleasure of everything around you."

She frowned but there was a light to his face that reminded her of being a child, the playful spirit that still saw magic in the world, the child before the teachings of Flemeth crushed it. Since she had met him those memories and feelings became more and more appealing and against her better judgement she agreed.

"Very well, explain away"

He guided her, showing her a simple but elegant pattern her feet would follow. He showed her how her arms should ebb and flow like the waves of the sea. He released her hair so that it could dance on the breeze.

"Now remember, I am not allowed to touch you. If you stick well to the pattern, it should be impossible for me to do so, unless I cheat of course", his grin was wicked and she couldn't help but laugh.

"Are you ready?"

He smiled encouragement and she nodded.

He let her step first and he hummed a tune to offer her a tempo, his steps moving in time to her faltering ones. At first her eyes were locked to her feet but in time as her steps became more confident she looked up and saw how they swirled around each other. There was something that drove her desire for he was always so close but never as close as she wished. His movements were graceful and sensual, yet innocent and chaste. The mixture made her mind reel with the joy of it all.

"Yes, my love, you feel it don't you. Let go Morrigan, be one with nature, see the world as I do"

She let go of everything and let her feet guide her and it became as natural as breathing. She could feel him, his heartbeat, his joy, his love, his fear, but his feelings were like a single star in the night sky, she was all of a sudden aware of every other star in the sky as the creatures and trees spoke to her being. She saw the past, images of Elves from a time before the coming of Men. She was swept up in the euphoria and she danced and laughed and cried and sang songs she knew not the meanings of the words. This was a magic older than the bones of the world and wrapped around her like a lover's embrace.

She could feel him weeping, but they were tears of joy. She was enamoured. He had offered her an intimacy that went beyond what they shared within their blankets. Their souls had touch, truly touched as if they were a single person. She had experienced his life, and he had experienced hers. She truly understood him, and he her.

But all magic fades, and this magic faded as the dance ended so that she only had the faint memory of what she had seen, like a dream fading in the daylight.

She found him staring at her, smiling. Their feet now still, the dance over.

"I.. I.. "

"I felt you my love, for a moment we were one. So now do you understand why the Elves dance?"

Morrigan was speechless for a while her thoughts raced to piece together what she had experienced.

"I.. I feel somewhat foolish. I once told you of how I knew the forest by being a wolf or a bird. But it was like the novice explaining to the master the meaning of the universe."

Arn smiled reassuringly, finding her embarrassment charming.

"It wasn't, the beasts and the Elves see things differently. The scope is much different. What you can experience through their form is something I wished I could achieve, but sadly never will. I just wanted you to see it through Elven eyes because I can't give you a greater gift of love."

It was his time to feel shy, to say it so clearly and plainly to her.

She didn't know what to say, she already fought desperately against these feelings. Yet she longed for them, for words like this, but she was also repelled that she waited on them. It frightened her. She had sneered at Leliana's concepts of love, of fairy tale princesses, happy ever afters and yet here she was secretly yearning for them with more hunger than she had ever had in her whole life for anything. Why couldn't she just either let him go, or just accept? She felt so sad at that moment that he must have seen it on her face for he asked her.

"What is it troubling you?"

"Ah... I am not sure what to say. I warned you did I not? I warned you that this was a weakness that was driving me mad. And yet you insisted."

He took her hands.

"Do you really want this to end?"

"Yes.. no. I do, yet I can not. Tis all so unexpected. I have no experience with any of it. And yet I find myself wanting it. Hungering for it, for you. That is not right, is it? That is not how a normal woman acts? I can see it in your eyes."

He tried to interrupt her, to tell her how right it really was, to tell her he felt the same, but this unburdening of her soul was like a waterfall, unstoppable and it pushed his protests aside.

"Release me. Tell me that you wish to end this. Make me believe you and I ... will be grateful"

The sob in her voice broke his heart, she was in such pain and all he longed for was to kiss the pain away.

"My love, I don't want it to end like this"

Her eyes blazed yellow fire, and her face contorted in rage.

"You miserable selfish bastard"

Her hand flew and slapped him stingingly across the face. She stepped back a moment seeing his shock and hurt, and the love in her for him desperately wanted to make it better. Her hands went to his face and she kissed him over and over, with passionate loving kisses. His arms entwined her and she ached with pleasure as his form pressed against hers.

"You will regret this, and so will I and.. perhaps that is how it must be"

"I would regret it more to give up on you. I trust you, even if in the end you break my heart. Nothing in this world that is worth fighting for comes easy. So I'll always fight for what we have."

She felt the word 'trust' stab her like a barb. He trusted her, yet she had lied to him, was lying to him still. Her purpose here was not because she cared, but because she was destined to be here. And yet she couldn't stop caring, couldn't stop loving. Everything had become so complicated.

"Do you want to return to camp?"

"No, not yet," she replied.

"What I need is for you to hold me"

He held her close, fingers running through her hair, whispering words of comfort to her. Everything was such a mess, but she realised that although she would be filled with regret when she left him, she could never regret what she had found in him.

As that memory faded another took its place, she remembered that for weeks after when she was alone, or maybe out in the woods collecting firewood for the evening fire that sometimes she couldn't help but move her feet in the pattern that Arn had shown her. Never once did that same magic appear to her, but it give her a few moments where she could forget all the other problems in her life, a moment to forget the complications and sorrow.

One of those nights she remembered she came out of the dance to find Wynne watching her. The old woman clasped her hands to her chest and there was such a bright smile on her face that Morrigan was unable to be angry or embarrassed. The old woman then held up her hands in apology for disturbing her and then she walked away and not another word was said about it but from that point on Wynne had treated her more kindly, showing her more respect and even made attempts at friendship.

She returned from her musing to find she was now sitting alone. Solan was dancing with another elf to a vigorous tune.

She smiled faintly before rising and moving off into the darkness. She had been shown great courtesy and friendship by the Elves, and it pained her to think that she would return it with betrayal, but the book in the possession of Seeker Solan held the answer to the awakening of the Eluvian. She had seen glimpses of the secrets it held, but the book would take study, and she also felt the magic emanating from it. She guessed that the book would act like a fetish, empowering the spells that it spoke of. She would need to take the book.

They had been gracious to let an outsider look at one of the last remnants of the clan's history and secrets. Her actions at Arn's side in the Brecilian forest to aid the plight of the Dalish had given her a high place amongst them and now she would become a thief in the night. Yet it must be done.

His tent was dark and unguarded when she approached. This would be simple. The trust they offered was a greater deterrent than any number of guards and it gnawed upon her. Trust once lost is hard to regain. She wondered if Arn still trusted her after all of her lies to him.

Within the hour a raven flew through the dead of night. When again it returned to the form of a woman it was be carrying a book.

* * *

><p>Morrigan was met by cultist scouts but two miles from the camp. They lead her through the canyons that easily hid the camp, even though the land itself was desolate.<p>

In time she entered the camp proper and the people around stopped what they were doing and congregated. One of the wet nurses brought her boy to her and she happily accepted him. He was beautiful to her eyes. But she needed to address the people, so after her brief moment of closeness with her son she handed him back.

"My people. I have found the answers we seek. The door shall be opened, and the guardian wakened to protect us." She held up the book.

"Here lie the secrets to powering the Eluvian. So pack up the camp, we move to the heart of the wastes where the portal lies."

The culmination of her destiny was so close now. She would bring her son through to where he was safe, safe to grow strong, to where she could grow stronger still to help him."

There was only one problem; Arn.

She found it hard to admit but she longed for him to find her, he could endanger it all yet she wished more than anything that he would find her. That feeling had grown steadily almost daily. It hadn't faded like a foolish infatuation, and for the hundredth time she wondered if she would have been better giving in to her feelings. He would have helped her even after all her lies, she was sure of it.

She reached out for him to feel him for just a moment. She tasted his breaking heart, his despondency. She felt him on the edge, if she hid from him now then she would escape him. But she realised now that she wanted him to follow.

"Please find me" she whispered and she was sure that he heard her words within him.

If only she was free to simply run to him.

But so many needed her, the world needed her.

And her happiness again was pushed aside...

* * *

><p>Three days after, a messenger entered the gardens of Redcliffe Castle. Arn was sitting there writing into a journal. After he had missed her by two days in Orzimmar Arn had realised that to simply chase her was never going to work. His love for her and that blind faith of his that would have him believe that he would cross her path and then they would fall into each other's arms was a fiction his heart devised to protect it from breaking fully.<p>

He had travelled to Arl Eamon and asked that he use army scouts to do the legwork, collecting rumours and sightings. The use of carrier birds to send messages saved his body, and every false lead he had run to in the past had caused another crack in his heart, he truly couldn't handle many more before he would lie down and wish to die.

The Arl had naturally agreed to help. So now scouts looked for her. There were now hundreds of eyes, searching just for her. He hoped they would send message soon for he was filled with a deep and terrible sorrow.

"Mi'lord"

Arn looked up from his journal and smiled.

"Just call me Arn, please. But what is it?"

"Yes Mi.. yes Ar.. erm Yes Sir", the messenger could simply not get past the protocol and discipline he had become used to with a lifetime of service.

The exchange made Arn smile. He needed a smile; it felt that he did it so infrequently now.

"Sir, a woman has been spotted in Korcari Wilds, at the hut of Flemeth. The message is a day old now and it said she had set up camp and is waiting there."

Arn jumped to his feet.

"Saddle me the fleetest horse, I leave at once. GO"

Arn was already moving as the messenger ran from the room. He had found her at last. He promised himself that whatever it took to be with her he would do it.

"Whatever the sacrifice, you are worth it"


	7. Reunion

Arn knelt at the small camp that was about a quarter of a mile south of the clearing where Flemeth's hut lay. The ashes although extinguished still had some residual warmth, suggesting that there had been someone here within the last couple of hours. Tracks showed a single person, the size of the foot suggested a very small human or possibly an Elf. The report he had received at Redcliffe Castle had said a woman and the tracks he found here lead Arn to the same conclusion. Arn let out a sigh of disappointment when he saw the depth of the tracks, the person was armoured in mail at least, maybe something even heavier. This was not Morrigan, but this mystery presence at Flemeth's hut was simply too much of a coincidence for him to not be suspicious.

Like two shadows in the night Arn and his Blight Wolf crept through the forest. Even as they crossed the clearing to the door of Flemeth's hut they were silent and almost invisible as they shifted from shadow to shadow. The door was slightly ajar and the Blight Wolf slipped in, Arn knocked an arrow on his finely crafted bow and followed the wolf into the building.

The sound of the drawing of blades and the growling of the wolf told Arn that there was someone in the hut, Arn drew a bead on the target, then looked at her, checking over the most important details. Elven woman, in armour, twin swords carried with confidence, no fear in her eyes even though outnumbered. This is was a dangerous opponent.

"Tell your wolf to back off, or I'll gut it."

Her Elven voice spoke of the music of Dalish origin. Arn considered her request quickly and decided he could still kill her with a single shot if she proved treacherous. He whistled at the wolf and it came to heel at his side.

"Put the blades away and I'll put down the bow," he suggested.

She looked into his eyes for two or three heartbeats and decided him trustworthy, and with a exhaling of her breath she fluidly sheathed her swords. Arn lowered his bow.

"Oh! Aneth ara, you startled me there! Have you news of the witch? Have you come to visit her too?"

"Do you mean Flemeth? For I can tell you Flemeth is dead. I was there when she was slain" replied Arn.

Now that there was no immediate danger Arn took time to really examine the stranger. The Elven woman before him bore the tribal tattoos so common of the Dalish, her hair was shoulder length and brown, her face though not exactly beautiful was more than comely, though he had found recently he never looked at women that way for he still bleed inside and no one but Morrigan could fill the void.

Her face haunted his dreams, sometimes in that time between waking and sleeping he was sure he could smell her and he would reach out to find her not there, he would wake feeling bitter for at least in his dreams they had been together.

The Elven woman's shoulders were broad and strong, most likely through years of training with the twin blades she carried so effortlessly on her back. She knew how to use them Arn decided. He would be wary of this one.

"Many have tried to kill Asha'bellanar in the past. Do no claim victory until a few centuries have passed without sight of her. We thought she could help us find her daughter, Morrigan"

Suspicion warred inside him, why would this woman be searching for her. Had she been sent to hurt Morrigan?

"The young witch has caused trouble for my clan. Has she earned you ire as well?

"Not exactly, I love her**,** "said Arn with a wistful smile dancing on his lips.

"Ah. They say she is beautiful, but I have never heard anyone claim she is capable of love."

"Ironically, she may even agree with you on that point"

The Elven woman frowned at that comment, but when no explanation was forthcoming decided to continue. Arn was relived she wasn't there for some sort of bloody resolution.

"Morrigan stole an ancient book my clan has guarded since the days of Arlathan. We were the only ones with such a piece of our history. Everything we once had, all legacy of our ancient magics were stripped from us. First by the Tevinter magisters, then by the wretched Circle. And Morrigan took what little was left."

"What's so special about this book?"

"For almost two thousand years, the Dalish people have been wanderers, a shadow of what we once were. This book—as much of a mystery as it is to us—is one of the only clues on how to reclaim that past. My keeper, Solan, says it was a treatise on something the ancients called 'Eluvian." The word is as old as the book itself, and its meaning has been lost. Save perhaps to Morrigan."

"How do you know Morrigan stole it?" He asked, perplexed why Morrigan would steal from the Dalish.

"One month ago, she visited our clan in the name of friendship, and took great interest in our history. She knew exactly what she was looking for. The keeper allowed her to see the book. Two nights later, it was gone."

Arn listened to her tale, deciding to believe it and wondered what Morrigan could be planning. He wondered if she had their son with her and if not who was caring for him.

"So what do you plan now?"

"Help me. We both want Morrigan, and we can aid each other."

"The Book of Eluvian was reclaimed for my clan by an Elven mage, who stole it from the Circle of the Magi before defecting. And still other such treasures remain with the Circle. Have you any standing to request entrance?

"They call me the hero of Ferelden. Though many others deserve the credit for what was achieved"

"The.. Then you are the one who slew the archdaemon? Knowing this they'll have to let us in! Ma serannas, let us go immediately!"

"Do you have a name?"

"Forgive me, yes. I am Ariane, of Solan's clan"

"You can call me Arn, or Warden if you prefer. "

Ariane smiled and bowed.

"Arn it is then."

* * *

><p>Arn gazed back at the Mage's Tower as the ferry man carried them back across the lake. He was glad to be gone from there.<p>

He could understand Morrigan's dislike of the place; it indeed felt like a prison. It was a cage surrounded by those waiting for one to make a mistake so they could pounce. It would have destroyed Morrigan's spirit to be caged so. He understood the dangers of magic, that a false step could turn one into some kind of fiend that lost all humanity but surely there was a better way?

He knew how the woman he loved cavorted dangerously on the edge with demons and spirits, dancing on a knife edge in the search for power, but did she dance so deftly because her tutor had not been afraid of the dangers. It was good to be cautious, but it was wrong to be overly so, wrapping the mage in wool and keeping him from the world. He trusted Morrigan to take the risks, just how she never questioned his skills or abilities. The mages of the tower had respect for each other, but not the trust in each other's motivations.

He looked across at the mage that had agreed to accompany them. His name was Finn, and for all the power he held, he was still an innocent. Intelligent he was, but could he survive in the world on his own? Arn very much doubted it. He had been cloistered in a world of books and spells most of his life. Brains but no sense his father would have described it. Finn epitomised it. Although Arn admitted that without Finn's training they would still be no closer to Morrigan. With Finn's help they had been able to decipher some Elven texts that mentioned an object called an Eluvian. And for some reason that Arn could still not fathom, this had been something Finn had known a little about. Of all the ancient lore that was stacked on those shelves, it was the greatest of luck to find someone that could help.

The lull of the boat made his mind drift and he remembered once overhearing Leliana and Morrigan in a venomous exchange. Morrigan had a wicked tongue, in more ways than one, but this day it had been of the unpleasant kind because Leliana had seen that no matter what Morrigan claimed, she was falling in love, and then foolishly commented on.

The exchange started innocently enough but eventually Morrigan blazed with annoyance.

"What you call love is a wishful fancy." Said Morrigan

"Ah, you don't fool me. Deep down inside you must be glad of it."

Morrigan's eyes narrowed.

"Let me tell you one thing, and then let us speak of it no more. Love is a weakness, love is a cancer that grows inside and makes one do foolish things. Love is death! The love you dream of would be more important to one than anything, even life. I know no such love. He chose me over you. If your hope is that he chose something pure and sugary sweet then you are quite wrong. What I know is passion, the respect of equals, things far more valuable that I will not speak to you of any further. Now be gone. "

Leliana was left stunned by the outburst, but when Morrigan turned to notice that Arn had been drawn to the sound of raised voices she couldn't meet his gaze. She had turned away and had avoided him for two days after that.

He wondered if she would say the same to him now because his love for her was more important to him than life. He would willing turn his back on it all to be with her, follow her wherever she went, whatever she did. Yes it was all consuming, but Morrigan was wrong he knew. Love was life, and to be without it was death. He only hoped that in these months apart and alone she had come to the same conclusion.

His eyes made contact with Finn's and the young mage smiled an awkward grin. He was like a young child on a grand adventure. It made Arn happy to see his joy. Finn's assistance had been in sharp contrast to the other treatment they had received when they had entered the tower. Entrance not been pleasant, he felt embarrassed by how the Templars showed great suspicion and contempt for Ariane. In the past he had bleed to aid the Circle and their Templar guards, he had faced numerous abominations to save the tower and now much had been forgotten it seemed for they treated the person in his company like an animal that Arn should keep leashed so it didn't cause a mess. He spat over the side of the boat to clear the bad taste from his mouth. Ariane though offended had held herself with dignity and he was glad of it. But he promised himself that unless he had no other option he would wash his hands of the tower.

But yet again the Circle had needed him, needed Ariane. The Tower had needed their help, to repair rips in the Fade that were located in the basement where their most ancient artefacts were kept. It had been cordoned off and no one could deal with it. Finn had pointed to answers that could be found through a soul trapped in a statue from the age where the Tevinter mages were at the pinnacle of their power and they needed answers, so once more Arn, accompanied with allies that were looked on with distain came to the rescue. He wondered where the justice was in the treatment they received. He decided there wasn't any.

But the answers were forthcoming, now he knew what he must do; he must find the last Eluvian which could be tracked by a spell that Finn could perform once they acquired a mirror shard and the lights of Arlathan.

He forgot about the Circle, Ferelden and all other things, he saw a reunion, and dreamed of a happy ending.

She would not escape him this time.

* * *

><p>Morrigan knew inside she was delaying the opening of the portal. She was afraid that if she opened it then it wouldn't work for very long. The magic around it shuddered and faltered. She only dared risk the opening when she was ready to go.<p>

Nothing held her back except him. She longed to see him again; a single glance and then maybe she could find peace on the other side of the Eluvian. She needed to say goodbye to his face. She knew now she had to let him go, no more fantasies or dreams. If she could just have a glance of him to make it bearable, a memory of him, to see him now with her own eyes, then perhaps she could have closure and so could he. And so she waited...

She had had to steel her heart since she reached out to him. "Please find me" she had called to him even though she knew it would have been better to remain silent. He would have broken down and stopped chasing and maybe in time he would have healed and loved again. Maybe in time they could have found peace. But her need outweighed her sense and the wound was fresh and bleeding again. She was shocked to find that she hated the thought of him finding love with someone else, the jealousy burning her inside like fire, yet she was going to give him up. She made no sense, and she knew it. Love was killing her, it truly was a cancer as she once proclaimed. Yet when she proclaimed it she had no experience of what she spoke. Her imaginings were nothing compared to the truth.

No, she realised, it wasn't Love that was a cancer. It was the denial of Love that was killing her. She couldn't remember a time when she was so at peace as when she was with him, swallowed up in his presence. Only when she tried to think and rationalise her feelings did the pain come. She envied his faith; he never seemed troubled or questioned what they had. He never analysed it, never weighed it on scales against power or freedom or anything else people covet.

She could remember how he would gaze into her eyes as he held her. Sometimes his fingers would trace her face, her hair. Sometimes he would describe the beauty he saw there, sometimes he was silent. But always was she the centre of the world then. At first she had been glad, thinking that it would be easy to ensnare him to her will, but before long she would begin to day dream of what he might say or do the next time they were together, that was when the sinking fear of losing control came to her and gnawed at her when she was not intoxicated with his presence. "If only", it had become the phrase she whispered most.

But a life together was impossible; his presence would destroy it all. His love and compassion could change their child so he would not walk the paths he must. Their son must be as hard as steel, as cold as the winter, as tough as the stone of the mountains. He must not waver or turn aside. Innocents will die but they must be sacrificed for the greater good. She could not let him be influenced by Arn's gentle soul.

She realised that she would become Flemeth to make her son strong. She would rob him of his childhood, of all the wonders of the world to make him an instrument of fate. It was then she understood why she truly couldn't be with Arn.

She was ashamed, ashamed to let him see her become just like the monster he had slain to save her. And that realisation broke her heart; it shattered into a million pieces. She was beyond pain then, she was numb and unfeeling until all the loss came rushing in to consume her. She longed for him to save her but she was beyond saving now.

She found a place of solitude where none could come across her and see her weakness. And there she sobbed until she had wept every tear inside her, and once the sobs subsided she drifted to an exhausted sleep.

* * *

><p>Arn caressed the ring on his finger, hoping beyond hope that in some way touching it would make her feel closer, that she would know he was searching, he was on her trail and that she should wait. He had heard her plea to find her, she wanted to be found, needed to be saved he knew, yet she had been silent since.<p>

Ariane interrupted his thoughts.

"That ring, you play with it often."

Arn looked at the ring with a sad smile.

"Yes I guess I do, Morrigan gave it to me. A long time ago."

Ariane raised her brows in surprise.

"A ring is a significant gift. In human cultures, does that not mean…?"

"That we are married? No. Fate has not been so generous."

"You put yourself in such danger, just to find her. What will do you do when you reach her?"

"I won't let her slip away again. And if all else fails I'll beg," said Arn with a sad laugh.

Ariane was sure that Arn's sad jest was closer to the truth than he would care to admit. And he used it to protect himself from the sadness he carried on him.

"We'll find her. You have my word. The ancient Eluvian will be our key."

He nodded his head as he stepped lightly through the rubble of the ancient temple. He could smell the Darkspawn, their stink filled the air, and it was like sulfur and burnt oil, rancid and sickening.

They were not alone, and as the shadows exploded from the walls he loosed the first of many arrows.

"For the Grey Wardens!" he bellowed.

And the killing started.

* * *

><p>Morrigan nervously paced in front of the Eluvian. She could feel him there just beyond the chamber's entrance. So close was he she could watch him through the power of the ring. He fought the creature she had left in place to guard the chamber from enemies. The Varterral . Arn was more magnificent than even she remembered. He was lithe as an athlete, as he skipped and vaulted from the attacks of the beast. She had seen the speed and deadliness of the creature and yet Arn made it look slow and lumbering.<p>

Arrow after arrow struck the creature. His companions too fought like demons. He had always been able to inspire those around him to feats of heroism. He had inspired her hadn't he, he had inspired her and gave her feelings she never knew she could feel. He was so much greater than her in many ways and yet somehow she thought him weak no matter what the evidence said to the contrary. But maybe that inspiration was what their son needed to learn how to lead? She stopped that line of thought, thinking it just a life-line she was casting to allow her to change her mind and let them be together. She would become terrible for the good of their son, he must not see it.

She had ushered her people through, and her son waited on the other side, it was the force of her will keeping it open. She had left a small vanguard of followers to protect the way, to stay this side of the mirror and protect it. She had to assume that they were now dead. They wouldn't have been able to stand against him. He truly was the greatest champion in the realm, yet it wasn't that prowess that left her feeling this way. It had attracted her yes, it had aroused her knowing that power that emanated from him, but in the end it was his tenderness and care and respect of her that turned that into love. And that love was calling to her now. She should have left but the pull of him kept her there.

She held her breath as the fight continued. She didn't fear the beast would win, she was afraid of their meeting.

Their final meeting.

"I have to say farewell, my love. I hope one day you will forgive me" she whispered to the breeze.

* * *

><p>The thrum of the bow string was like music to Arn's ear as he released another Elven arrow. Made from heart wood, these arrows travelled further and truer, could pierce the stoutest armour as if it was made of smoke. The Varterral hissed in agony as another arrow thudded home. Arn vaulted on to the pile of debris to his left, nimbly dodging a pincer that could have skewered him. He laughed with abandon as he leapt and fought. He was alive when he fought, the fight to survive, the losing yourself in the thrill of battle. Never did he think of death, never did he think of anything but the lust to slay his enemies.<p>

A piercing howl escaped his lips and a Blight Wolf burst from the shadows, as if appearing from the Fade itself. It leapt on to the Varterral's back, strong jaws locking onto the creature's neck. Its insect-like chitin crunched audibly over the sounds of battle and its high pitched scream was enough to freeze the blood of even the most stalwart heart.

The Varterral could only be described as a praying mantis of the size of a mammoth that once wandered the snowy northern plains. It could spit a fine spray of acid that burned and paralysed. It pincers were more precise than a surgeons tools yet hit with the force of a blacksmith's hammer. It was truly a creature whose sole design was to prey and feed on other creatures. The perfect killing machine, yet here it had met its match.

Finn had soon realised he should not get too close to this thing, his robes would offer little if no protection to the beast, even though ensorcelled to act like armour. He stayed out the way, weaving spells of healing and rejuvenation, offering strength to tired limbs as they fought this beast.

All of a sudden the thing turned to face him; he was paralysed with fear as he recognised his death in those black metallic eyes. Like a black streak there was the wolf between him and the beast. The pincer struck as quick as lightening puncturing the wolf through the back, impaling him. It howled in anguish and pain before the pincer was roughly pulled out. A huge gout of blood erupted across the floor, splattering Finn with the wolf's life blood.

Finn in drastic haste cast a force shield around the wolf, this primal creature that had just saved his life. The shield held the creature in stasis, saving it from bleeding to death. He wove spells on the wolf, healing it, knitting its flesh back together, and filling it with life anew.

Ariane saw her chance when the beast was so focused on Finn and the wolf that had saved him. With all the strength she could muster she hacked at the joint of the beast's legs. It severed with a gush of black viscous blood. Her momentum continued as she allowed herself to spin full circle to wind up the next blow. Another leg was severed, leaving the floor slick with black blood. The Varterral collapsed to its side where it floundered. Pincers still flashing like lightening it was far from subdued. But now it couldn't move. The fight was drawing to its conclusion.

Arn chose his angle with care then fired arrow after arrow, piercing the head repeatedly. The final arrow crashed through the chitin just under its eye, exploding the organ and burying itself deep into its brain. The beast howled out its death rattle before collapsing into a heap. It was over.

Arn could see that the wolf, though safe and stable could do no more, he thanked it for its aid. The empathic link between ranger and beast passed on his thanks before he told the wolf to run free. It looked back at the companions for a moment as if acknowledging them before vanishing as quickly as he had come.

Finn was the last to turn away from the point where the wolf was last seen.

Arn pulled open the door to the chamber, he could feel her watching. The sensation was so strong that he knew she was just ahead. The search was over, after all those months, all those heart aches and tears he would be reunited.

He raced ahead of the others, drawn by the call of her presence. And there, ahead he saw a woman standing next a mirror, the fine figure, the black hair. She wasn't as yet close enough to determine the details of her face, but he knew it was her. He could feel the tears coming to his eyes. Relief washed over him like a spring rain. He saw that she was pacing backwards and forwards and he felt her anguish hit him through the ring.

His feet slowed, he was suddenly afraid. For the first time in his life he was terrified.

He hadn't released he had totally stopped until he felt Ariane's hand on his shoulder, her voice soft as she saw the fear on his face. It was the fear of rejection.

"I think she is waiting for you"

He took a breath to steady his beating heart and walked the final steps until there she was, clear in every detail.

His love, his life, Morrigan.

* * *

><p>"No further, please. One more step and I leave. For good, this time".<p>

Arn held up his hands in a sign of peace. This was not how he dreamed their meeting would be like. But just as it was every time he gazed on her she stole his breath with her beauty, her poise. Many had died to get to this point, every pain; every sacrifice had brought him to this point. And he would pay them again gladly; ten times over, if need be, to be with her.

"There's no need to run," he responded

"I assume you know what this is. I have gone to great lengths to find and activate this portal. Give me reason and I use it, and you will not be able to follow."

"I know the Eluvians are portals, but to where?"

"To another place, beyond this world and beyond the Fade. But this portal can only be used once more. Achieving even this much was... difficult."

She tried so hard to steel herself to keep her sorrow from him; she needed to be strong to make him believe that she cared no longer, her last gift to him to help him heal his heart. At least then only hers would be broken forever. She would dedicate the rest of her life to their son. But seeing him was too much for her aching heart and her tone softened.

"I remained because I sensed your approach. You kept the ring."

His fingers caressed the ring she spoke of. It had never left his hand since the day she gifted it to him.

"Of course I did, it was all I had left of you," he responded.

"Tell me: why did you come?"

"You think I would let you just walk away?" Arn said.

"Was that not our deal? A deal you are breaking. What can you hope to gain by coming here now?"

"You speak of a deal my love, but in truth there was no agreement to that, you told me you would leave, I never agreed to it. What I agreed to is that I would live, that you would save me and then I hoped that you would change your mind and we would be companions to go where ever you wished to go.

But to answer your question, why did I come, I came here for you. The woman I love."

That simple statement made her heart sing, she hadn't realised just how much she missed to hear him tell her these things, to say her name, to look on her, to know that he fought all this way for her. And in the end it made none of what she must do any easier.

"And you once argued with me that love is not weakness. I will never understand you. And you will never understand me."

"I won't understand unless you help me to." He replied. His eyes pleaded with her to open up, to tell him, to give him some clue of how to make this better.

" I... would not even know where to begin explaining." She said sadly. She felt like she was breaking inside. This perhaps had been a mistake. She had needed to see him face to face to look on him one last time to help her remember all the joys they had shared together. But it was so difficult.

He broke her reverie with a question.

"Tell me, why did you lie to me?"

"Tis true I deceived you. I did not think the battle with the Archdaemon would come so soon. And so I came to you. I needed you, yes, but I also did not wish to see you die. And here you stand, alive. So do not speak to me of betrayal."

"I never spoke of betrayal, but in truth Morrigan you should have just asked me and I would have done it willingly. Knowing what I know now I would still do it again even if the child would not have been my salvation. I believe in you, your judgement, and your goals. I would have helped you in any way I could. Yes there must be danger for us all in what you have done, the boy you possess, but I know you must have done it for some good reason. It was more than your own power. I know you are not your mother; that this was not just for your own glory.

If there was betrayal, then it was you that betrayed yourself, in to being convinced that you could not trust me with the truth."

How his statement hurt her inside. She would be like Flemeth yet he told her she would not, she felt as if she was deceiving him. To discover that after all the lies that were spoken, all the pain that she caused him, and he caused to her, that he would have done as she wished without any deceit. They could have been happy and she had ruined it because she had such little capacity to trust. She cursed Flemeth for what she had done to her through her teachings.

"I need to leave", she said and somehow with great strength of will she kept her voice from shuddering. The task became harder still as she saw his shoulders slump slightly, as if for the first time he realised he was going to lose her, before he pulled himself together to keep fighting for something that was already lost.

"But first allow me to provide you a warning. "Tis Flemeth you should beware of, not me. Hunt her, if you hunt anyone.

"Flemeth is dead."

"My mother has tricked her way past death and more. She is no more finished than I am. "

She stepped away from the Eluvian for the first time, moving closer to Arn. He found that he had been holding his breath and now that she was close to him he drank in everything of her, her beauty, her scent, that intoxicating muskiness of sweat and herbs and desire, she oozed everything that made his blood burn and his mind reel. How he loved her and longed for her and as she closed the gap her eyes softened and a faint smile crossed her lips.

"I thought I knew what Flemeth planned. I thought what she craved was immortality. And yet I was wrong. So very wrong. She is no blood mage, no abomination... She is not even truly human. The ritual was but a means to an end, a herald for what is to come."

"Why? What is going to happen?" he asked her.

"Change is coming to the world. Many fear change and will fight it with every fibre of their being. But sometimes change is what they need most. Sometimes change is what sets them free."

"And is that what you want? To be free?"

"What I want... is unimportant now."

His eyes blazed like emerald fire, never had see seen him so furious, he blazed like the sun and she was tempted to step back.

"Damn it Morrigan, the time for evasion is over. Why will you not fight for us? Why are you so afraid to love me? We both know what we feel for each other. "

He held up his hand that bore the ring.

"This tells me, though I knew it already. I have seen it in your eyes, tasted it on your kiss and felt it in your words, I know how you yearn. I feel you there sometimes watching, so do not claim what we had was a passing fancy. Do not try to tell me that the love I see in your eyes right now is but a reflection of my own. It has been almost a year since I gazed upon you and not a day passes that you are not part of it. Tell me it is different for you?"

She nodded her head sadly in agreement, her eyes so full of sorrow.

"We stand on the brink. This is it." He pointed at the Eluvian.

"The final chance, we have both made this moment happen, I chased and you waited so you cannot tell me you didn't long for this. So why do you now push me away again? Why will you not just listen to your heart?"

She could not meet the fury in his gaze and when he saw the unshed tears trembling on her eyelashes, the anger abated.

His voice gentled and he took a step closer to her, taking her hands in his.

"Please my love, tell me. What is it you want; do you truly want to be free of me?"

She blinked away welling tears. She could not look at him.

"You", her voice was barely a whisper.

She looked up into his eyes and said as steadily as she could.

"You, I want you."

It felt like a weight off her heart to tell him how she felt, the fear had not receded at the opening of her soul to him, the wall she had built up still stood, but she had opened the gate and the emotions rushed through it like a swollen river bursting its banks.

"Then take me with you"

It was the words she had dreamed of, but long ago she had been told not to dream. They were flights of fancy to lure the weak and foolish. So even now she tried to push him away. At that moment she hated herself for the emotional suicide she was committing, but she just couldn't stop.

"You.. cannot know what you ask. T'would be better if you stayed. For you, for us both."

"Do you really believe that is true? I do not. Part of me dies here today if we go different paths. I want to be with you, no matter the consequences"

Finally she surrendered. At last she refused to listen to her mind, to Flemeth or anyone else, it was time to let her heart speak.

"Then come, my love. We will face the future together."

He leaned in close to her and his mouth found hers. They kissed, a kiss that spoke of all the longing, the pain, the joy and love they had. Her fingers wound in his hair and his arms pressed her against him so she felt as if they were merging into one.

After a time Arn drew back remembering his companions, looking over his shoulder he raised his hand in thanks to Ariane and Finn for their help. Ariane nodded back, but Arn had forgotten her, lost again in those wolfish eyes.

Later Ariane would recover the book she had been searching for left at the small camp next to the Eluvian.

She led him to the Eluvian, she brushed her fingers along the surface of the mirror and it rippled like a pool. Intrigued Arn did likewise.

"Are you ready my love?" she asked him.

"I think I have been ready since I woke to see your face after Ostagar"

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and pretended to be unimpressed with the romantic foolishness he had just stated. But long ago she realised that she longed for those types of words and gestures even though she claimed they were weakness. And that ring she gave him wouldn't let her convince him otherwise.

He grinned wolfishly.

"I might need to ask for that ring back" she said in mock-displeasure.

"You can try" he said smirking.

And hand in hand they stepped through the Eluvian.

* * *

><p>Lord Chelvois was an important man in the higher echelons of Orlais society. He had been become increasingly worried about his wife's mental state throughout her pregnancy. Through the months she seemed to be more and more erratic, exploding in to fits of fury, cackling with delight at the strangest things, even quoting phrases that had no meaning or context. If she had been a mage he would have called to the priests to see if she was ensorcelled or possessed, but their physician said it was just her body rebelling against her in her condition. She had always been a quiet and calm woman and this change of personality was beyond anything he would have expected.<p>

In the last few weeks she had been suffering nightmares that would wake her screaming every night. She started talking to herself in daylight hours as if conversing with a confidant. He had to keep her out of society for she was simply unpredictable. And gossip would follow her like a cart follows a horse.

Now he paced back and forth in his study as her wails filled the house. She was birthing, and the best nursing wives were with her. In time the cries abated and a servant opened the door.

"Mi'lord, you are requested in her ladyship's chamber".

Chelvois nodded and rushed to his wife's side.

She was sitting in bed cradling a child. She was smiling.

He crossed the room to see a sweet little babe. Her hair was raven black like his wife's and he decided that she would be a beauty for he could see his wife in her. Then he blinked back in shock, his daughter's eyes were yellow. His eyes were brown, as was his wife's.

"Isn't she perfect? " His wife said in a voice thick with love and pride.

"Yes indeed, she is most beautiful, which is to be expected as you are her mother. Now we must have a name for her."

"I already know her name, I have known it a long time ago, and her name will be Flemeth"

"But isn't that the..."

His voice dried in his throat at the stare his wife gave him. Her eyes were terrifying. For a second they were golden and serpent like before returning to a normal brown. He thought it must be a trick of the light but there was a presence in the room, surrounding his wife at that moment, that made a shiver run down his spine and he felt that his soul was in peril.

"Ver.. ver.. very well"

And again her face was sweet and happy, although tired. Yes, a trick of the light he thought.

And Flemeth again walked the world of men.

* * *

><p>A few days later found Arn and Morrigan in the forests of a world whose name had been lost to men a millennia since.<p>

The sky was bright and clear, the sun warmed their skins and the sweet smell of elf root was carried on the breeze. They lay on his cloak, dressed only in their skins. He lay upon his back and she sat astride him. Sitting upright her face tilted towards the sun, her eyes closed enjoying the heat. He admired her beauty. Her form imposed upon the blue of the sky was breath-taking. The raven tresses blowing in the wind, her hair had been released from its bun in their passions. Hers were perfect features, her full lips, the hard and somewhat cruel looking eyes that could pierce his soul and yet when she let her love shine in them warmed him more than any sun. Truly there wasn't another woman in the world like her, she was fierce and primal, his wolf eyed woman and yet she could still be that naive little girl that needed his protection. The blend of her soul was intoxicating. Her skin was like milk, and satin to the touch. His fingertips traced down her neck, between firm breasts, across her stomach that had returned to flatness after the birth of their child. He let his fingers continue their path until they brushed the soft hair of her womanhood. She turned from the sun and looked down at him.

"Soon we must prepare our son for what is to come."

"So the honeymoon is over" he quipped.

She punched him and her look became harder still.

"I told you once before I will not be tied to some strange and elaborate custom of ownership"

He laughed at her and she put her hands on her hips. He could not help but admire the view.

"And what is so funny?"

"Well if I recall, it was you that made it clear that you would not share. Not that I want to be shared or share you with anyone. And it was also you that gave me a ring."

"To be able to track you" she corrected, trying to offer a logical explanation.

"Of course... And the day you left, I thought of nothing else. I didn't see anyone else because all I could see was you"

She nodded her head thoughtfully.

"Indeed, I know that feeling well." She took a breath.

"I love you", she said. He felt her tense as she said it. He smiled at her, gazing into her eyes, stroking her thigh idly.

"I know it is hard for you to express what you feel my love, and I appreciate every time you do."

"Give me time, it does get easier to be open with you", she replied. She was happy to feel the teachings of Flemeth start to lift from her soul by the love and care of the only person never to give up or forsake her.

"But back to my point" he said smiling.

"I think a long time ago we agreed to it in essence even if we were apart. I don't require ceremonies or written notes. It has never been about that for me. You are my companion, I am whole with you, that is the best way I can describe it"

A wicked grin appeared across his face.

"I promise not to call you 'Wife', even if you really are"

She growled and they ended up in a mock fight, she liked to play dirty and she kicked and punched and bit but eventually he had her trapped, she was leaning forward her breasts pressed against his chest, and his arms wrapped around her pinning her arms to her sides. He was glad she had stopped using magic in their play so that he could win now and again.

Sometimes he was too smart for his own good she thought.

"I hate it when you are right; it forces me to change the subject." She moved her hips in such a way that made him groan and forget totally about their conversation.

No, she was still using magic, just of another sort he thought to himself.

And for the next few hours she changed the subject most deftly.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note.<strong>_

_And there is it. The happy ever after the way I "wanted" to see it._

_I wrote these stories with how I interpreted Morrigan. Bioware's writers did a wonderful job with her, you never really know enough to be totally sure of how she works, so in the end you decide whether you want believe in what she says or you don't._

_My interpretation actually saw Morrigan as the "good" girl and Leliana as the "bad" girl. Leliana made a trade of deceit and manipulation, though she was at a point in her life where she regretted it._

_Morrigan is the product of a parent that deliberately broke her personality. Actually telling her love/compassion/friendship/trust etc. are bad traits. Power is all, people are used as tools. Morrigan acts tough and cold because she has been taught to do that, and also that she doesn't want to be hurt emotionally, she has no notion of how to deal with a fight she can't use her powers to control. Inner turmoil for her is devastating. _

_She has a tough outer wall but is very brittle. Once a crack appears she breaks easily. I wanted to portrait that. Throughout my stories she is very assured on the outside but the inside is full of doubts and questions._

_She starts to question what she knew, but also there was cowardice in her actions because what she had been told to do (her destiny) was a laid out path, the easy path. It was playing it safe because she knew where it would lead. She was very scared to take a risk and follow her own path. She claims to stand for freedom, yet she followed Flemeth's plans without any prompting. I think Morrigan is very far from being free. _

_And I feel that is was probably the most important factor in her decision to leave. But like most of us I couldn't leave it like that, I needed a "loves conquers all" end._

_Although I enjoyed Witch Hunt and have reproduced most of the dialogue verbatim, I really did have a "OMG Will you answer the question for once!" moment and needed to put that in there. _

_In some ways Morrigan is very naive and that too makes her attractive. And above all she needs to be saved. This made her the perfect romance character in my eyes._

_I introduced a "destiny" line into the story because I could never really decide why Morrigan would continue with Flemeth's plan even after the warden killed her. If anyone else has an insight why, then please fill me in._

_I played the game with the Morrigan Restoration patch by Terra_Ex. This actually gave the scene where she slaps the warden, which I think is the highlight of the relationship (no dancing though :P) and recommend everyone to get that patch. _

_It's the culmination of her frustration and relief, frustrated by trying to cope with this feeling of love and the total relief that the warden refuses to let her go because although she says otherwise she doesn't want it to end. Morrigan has a few 'explosions' of emotion then she buries them again to become cold and cynical and almost business-like. But it's those outbursts that make the chase such a good story. You are left wondering about her sincerity at times. But as I pointed out before, in my stories the warden did believe what she said (and she was being honest..) and so it all rolls up into a happy ending. _

_As a side note I came to the conclusion that the romance with Leliana and Morrigan are actually very similar, and are very typical of many fantasy stories. The "hero and the maiden". In my opinion there is a fascination in males to be given some kind of 'virginity', to be the first and I think Bioware decided to follow that plot. With Leliana it is the common understanding of offering her virginity to the one she loves. (Listening to all the banter between her and Morrigan makes me believe she is a virgin). She loves fairly easily but holds herself away physically. But Morrigan is the reverse; she is still virginal emotionally, not in the flesh. And to me that makes Morrigan's love story far more sentimental and sweet, I see sex far less important than emotion._

_So where to now? I think I might write of their adventures as they explore the new world and gain power. I don't really have a persona for the child (or even a name tbh ... Though I sort of like the idea of Kadan as a reference and salute to Sten who was an excellent and stoic companion. It brought me a lot of joy when he addressed me as friend.) and so he will be referenced but won't star too much in it._

_And of course Flemeth has been reborn._

_And finally thanks to anyone who took the time to read these stories._

_All the best._


End file.
